


Of Love and Compromise

by StongeOfTheGalaxium



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StongeOfTheGalaxium/pseuds/StongeOfTheGalaxium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil have a chance meeting while attending the same university that leads to immediate sparks between them. Only time will tell if they are meant to be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard's low on money for his college fees and dorm rental and has been doing some freelance work to bring some in, but what happens when he takes a modelling job for Thranduil, one of the richest guys in the school?

Flopping onto the bed in his dorm room, Bard sighed and stared at the crumpled flyer in his hand. They'd been handed out by a couple of pretentious rich kids who were often giving out invitations to frivolous parties that he almost never went to. The only time he had, he'd felt under-dressed and out of place amongst all the grandeur. So he'd snatched the flier, expecting it to be another invitation to another party he probably wasn't going to go to, and stuffed it into his pocket, only to get back to his room and realise it was in fact an advert. A photography student looking for models for one of their projects. Willing to pay handsomely to anyone who would participate. Bard scoffed and crumpled the flier again, leaving it on the bed so he could get up and inspect his reflection in the dingy full length mirror on his door. He wasn't that bad to look at, he supposed, he did fairly regular workouts, and practiced archery in his spare time, so he was quite fit. And if the occasional glances and whispers he got around campus were anything to go on, he wasn't exactly unattractive. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, turning to glance at the crumpled piece of paper on the bed. He needed the money, he was struggling to pay his college fees, but was it worth his dignity?

Apparently it was, or he wouldn't be standing uneasily here, outside of a building that looked more like a stately mansion than a college dorm. He shifted his weight, contemplating turning around and leaving when the door opened and a regal looking man with long, platinum blond locks leaned lithely against the doorframe, smirking almost predatorially at Bard, who felt a shiver down his back and a faint flush creeping across his face. "I err...I'm here for...I saw your err flyer..."

"Mm..I thought that might have been why you were here," the man purred, studying Bard with intent, yet somehow managing to seem a little bored at the same time. "You do realise I've rejected nearly everyone who's turned up here today? What makes you think you're any different?" 

Bard narrowed his eyes, scowling at the arrogance of this infuriatingly beautiful man before him. "Nothing. I just need the money, but I had a feeling this probably would be a waste of time." With that he turned on his heels to leave, but the man tutted and called after him.

"Now, now, did I say you had to leave? Most of the people I turned away were irritatingly desperate. And yet you are so ready to flee, before I've even made a decision?" He circled around Bard, every movement calculated and graceful. Pretentious, thought Bard. "And you're never at my parties. It's almost as if you're uncomfortable." His smirk was broader than ever now. "Oh my, this will be fun. You may call me Thranduil," he insisted, holding out a delicate hand with slender, beautifully manicured fingers.

"Bard," the other muttered through gritted teeth, as Thranduil ushered him through the house after Bard half-heartedly accepted the handshake. He knew of Thranduil, one of the most spoiled rich kids in this whole damn school, it was said that he rarely left his dorm and never seemed to do any work and it was well known that most of the pretentious parties were on his behalf. And yet he couldn't stop himself looking around in awe as he was buffeted along, yes the decor was all very grand, but there was also something natural about it, as if the entire place had been carefully decorated to look like something out of an enchanted forest. Rich kids, he thought dismissively. 

“Here we are,” Bard couldn’t help noticing that Thranduil’s voice had yet to seem anything other than a purr. “You should count yourself lucky, in spite of my reputation, very few have had the honor of seeing the inside of my personal dorm room.” 

Luck, right. Bard scoffed and rolled his eyes. If he had any luck, he wouldn’t be standing here right now. Still, he couldn’t deny that the room was beautiful, the same simple, natural decorations as the rest of the building, only with a little more splendour, making it feel almost as if he were walking into the den of some sort of fairy king. But what made Thranduil think he was worth bringing here, if so few got to see this place? Surely there were other places in the dorm they could do a photo shoot. No, he shook his head, stopping himself from staring with fixation as Thranduil moved so gracefully around this space, owning the room and reaffirming the fairy king allusion. Bard, stop. He pushed those thoughts aside. He was only here on business. So why did the predatory gaze the other consistently fixed on him make him melt a little?

“So, the err…project you’re working on..?” He stammered, trying to get his thoughts back in order. There was no way he was letting this arrogant man lord it over him so easily. 

“Oh, just some portrait work,” Thranduil replied dismissively, adjusting some camera equipment. “Go ahead and sit down on the bed a moment, I need to adjust the lighting, then we can try and find a camera angle that makes you look…decent…”

Bard was halfway to sitting on the edge of the bed that looked too luxurious to disturb by so much as sitting on it when his head snapped back up to fix Thranduil with a glare. "Decent? If that's how you bloody feel, what am I even doing here? You can get anyone you want, so don't waste my time with petty insults." 

Cold blue eyes fixed on Bard as he spoke, lips curled into a smirk. "Anyone I want? Is that really what you think? I mean you probably have a point, but you know nothing about me, you just assume that I'd be satisfied with any old floozy that wandered past me." He moved away from the tripod he'd been positioning and pointed a digital camera at Bard, his delicate fingers flitting over the controls to adjust the settings. "No, I like things to be a little more interesting. I've spent most of my life having things just handed to me, I'd like at least some part of my life to come with a bit of a challenge."

Thranduil snapped a couple of candids as the now flustered Bard tried to collect himself. "What exactly are you implying? If this is just some sort of twisted game..." Bard trailed off, not sure where that sentence was going.

"Uh-uh, that would be telling. Enough chit-chat for now, we're here for business after all."

"Business? We haven't even agreed anything yet," Bard spat.

"And yet you came all the way to my room and are sitting on my bed, I'd say you've agreed whether you realise it or not," Thranduil stated simply, snapping another photo. "Now as much as I'm enjoying your flustered candids, I need some more composed photos for the project. Do you think you could try a couple of poses for me?" 

Begrudgingly, Bard tried to think of some of the poses he'd seen models do, but he'd never really given it much thought, so a tutting Thranduil had to shift him into position, and Bard was surprised by the underlying strength in those seemingly delicate hands. "You're definitely going to pay me for this? I don't have time to waste doing this for no reason."

"Mmm, and even if I don't who says there's no reason? I will pay, of course, but only if you actually cooperate." Thranduil took a few steps back, considered Bard's pose then moved in again to adjust it slightly. "Now, just keep still, and maybe try not to look so miserable about this."

It went on for a few more poses, before Thranduil said. "I need a few for a life piece as well. Take your top off."

By now Bard had all but given up trying to reason with this man, clearly Thranduil didn't do much listening to other people, and just tugged his top off over his head, revealing a well-toned, muscular body underneath and causing Thranduil to make an odd choking noise that Bard thankfully didn't quite hear. After a moment, the blond regained his composure, though you'd barely noticed he'd lost it in the first place, and instructed Bard to do the last pose again "but maybe give me a little smoulder".

When Thranduil asked Bard to removes his trousers for a few full body poses, however, Bard almost snapped. Taking his top off was one thing, but getting almost completely naked in front of someone he barely knew? And so that this person could take photos for who really knew what purposes? 

"You worry I'm just doing this to waste your time? Or that I'll do something nefarious with these? I give you my word that this is for a photography project, and I'll double the price on the flyer."

"You think it's just about money?"

"Perhaps not, but I know it's something you need. I am merely asking a favor in exchange for a favor."

Gritting his teeth, Bard conceded irritably, perching on the edge of the bed to remove his boots and socks, then roughly undoing the fly of his jeans, he shoved them down and kicked them aside. Underneath he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs in an understated grey colour.

"Happy?" he asked Thranduil rhetorically? At this point in time, the other's happiness meant little to him. Not when he was the one in such a compromising predicament, standing in the room of the richest kid on campus in nothing but his underwear. But he wouldn't allow himself to show weakness to this man, he would never admit how embarrassed and awkward he felt.

Thranduil, meanwhile, was grinning like the cat that got the cream. He was definitely enjoying the control he had over Bard, but the view wasn't bad either. "Very," he purred, moving in to pose Bard once more, his strong yet delicate hands lingering a little longer than necessary in a couple of places, and he'd be lying if he'd said he didn't want to rake his elegantly manicured nails down the strong ridges of Bard's abs.

But it wasn't the time for that. Not yet at least. He really did need the photos for his project, even if he also had a hidden agenda. Thranduil took a few more photos, then dipped his head to the side thoughtfully, and Bard may have been a little in awe of the way his gossamer hair shifted neatly with the movement. He was wondering whether he could push Bard a step farther, or whether he should just make a move. 

Best not to waste his chance just yet, he decided, setting his camera aside and gliding toward Bard, lightly grazing his fingernails against the man's cheek, causing Bard to start, his own hand lashing out to catch Thranduil's wrist. "What are you doing?" he murmured, staring at Thranduil with his brow furrowed in concern and confusion. 

"Like I said, I like a challenge," Thranduil replied calmly, wresting his wrist from Bard's grip. "I've always found interesting how there are so many people desperate to get into our parties, and yet you've only been to one, and even then you seemed uncomfortable. I've been curious."

Now Bard was just blinking incredulously. "What would someone as grand as you want with a commoner like me?" 

"Don't you think it gets tiresome, having to entertain so many rich people and tagalongs all of the time? The fact that you're not remotely interested in that lifestyle is reason alone. But you're not exactly hard on the eyes. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but that just adds to the charm after having to deal with so many prim people so constantly."

"But..."

Thranduil shook his head and skimmed his hands up Bard's chest. He'd already admitted far more about himself than he'd ever told anyone else. He wasn't usually an open person, but he'd meant what he said, he was drawn to Bard, and apparently felt relaxed enough around him in a way he never had around anyone else. "I've often wondered what you'd look like, writhing beneath me on my bed while I rode you like a wild stallion."

That one caught Bard off guard, caused his breath to catch in his throat. He couldn't say he disliked that thought, even remotely, especially with the distracting way Thranduil was fingering the elastic of his briefs. Before he realised what he was doing, his hands, rough and callused from archery and from some of the manual jobs he'd done to earn money, were brushing against Thranduil's porcelain cheeks, gingerly pushing the delicate, silken hair aside and drawing Thranduil in for a tentative kiss.

At that, Thranduil let go of the waistband, letting it snap lightly against Bard's skin, while his hands moved to rest on those broad pectorals, nails biting into the flesh. He didn't want to waste time being gentle, he'd waited too long for this as it was, he was kissing back more urgently, nipping at the other's lips and pushing him back toward the bed.  
Bard gave in, opening himself to Thranduil's prying, the kisses become hot and rough, tongues entwining, tasting, until he was sitting on the bed once more and Thranduil broke away, leaving Bard panting softly, so that he could disrobe himself.

Where Bard had taken his clothes off only to begrudgingly comply with the criteria of Thranduil's project, Thranduil made a show of it, slowly, deliberately removing each garment, very aware of Bard watching him, until he was stood in just a pair of lacey, white panties. He gave Bard a moment to take in the view, before moving in once more, straddling his lap and resuming the fervent kisses.

If Bard was asked, he'd have to admit he wasn't all that surprised by Thranduil's choice in underwear, if anything, it seemed to suit him and add to the ethereal image that surrounded him. Thranduil was beautiful, he had no choice but to concede that, even from the moment they met. But seeing him like that, long and lithe, looking so delicate and breakable, yet somehow managing to excude and aura of strength at the same time, he may have been a bit smitten already, and though he still wasn't a fan of Thranduil's attitude, he could certainly appreciate his beauty. And oh did he want to appreciate the hell of out him right now, even if it didn't seem right for such rough hands to caress such smooth, perfect skin.

Thranduil didn't care, he wanted those hands all over him as much as he wanted to rake his nails over every single bit of Bard he could reach, and he let out a small moan as Bard's mouth found his neck, one rough hand delicately brushing his hair aside for better access, while Thranduil's nails skittered down Bard's back and his fingertips slipped into the back of Bard's briefs. "These have got to go," he murmured, disentangling himself from Bard for a moment so he could retrieve something from the drawer in his bedside table, and slip his panties off.

Bard was so distracted by the sight of Thranduil completely naked and still elegant and proud as ever, that he fumbled getting his own underwear off. Once they were off however, Thranduil was eyeing him appreciatively, looking more predatory than ever. He shoved Bard backwards onto the bed, this time straddling his thighs so he could have access to his cock. What he'd needed from the drawer was lube, which he was now warming a little on his hands before working it over Bard's length, enjoying the strangled noises the other was making as he expertly stroked him. 

Once he was satisfied that Bard was slick enough, and not wanting to lose him before he could have his fun, Thranduil shifted, easing himself onto Bard's cock, silken hair falling around his face like a curtain, shifting aside to reveal his face once more as he straightened himself up slightly, he needed to be able to watch Bard after all. 

Resting his hands on Bard's chest, he began to move his hips, a slow rhythm to start with, drinking in Bard's noises and expressions, before getting lost in the tide of sensation and picking up the pace, his nails scraping at Bard's flesh as he let go and allowed himself to just get caught in the moment, not thinking anymore, just feeling and moving. 

It was Bard's turn to watch Thranduil, to admire his expression once he finally stopped being so calculated, watching him get as lost to the pleasure as Bard was. The bite of Thranduil's nails only added to the pleasure of the moments and it wasn't long before both men reached their peak, and a spent Thranduil collapsed next to Bard, his chest rising and falling heavily after his exertion. But in spite of his exhaustion, he still had the energy to reach into the side table drawer once more, this time drawing out an old Polaroid camera. Propping himself up, he aimed the camera at Bard, wanting to be able to savor the sight of him covered in scratch marks that he'd been the one to cause (not to mention Thranduil's cum), and Bard was too dazed to object at this point.

In fact the main thought going through his head was wondering how the hell Thranduil didn't have a single hair out of place.

A while later, once they'd both recovered, Thranduil was propped up on an elbow, looking at Bard thoughtfully, his fingers idly wandering Bard's chest and arms. "I could take care of all your debts, you know..."

"And what, I just have to be your plaything?" Bard scoffed. It's not that he didn't enjoy it, but he wasn't really up for prostituting himself out. He wasn't that desparate.

"Hardly," tutted Thranduil. "There's a limit to how shallow I am. I'm not about to go trying to buy you, or shower you with fancy gifts. I know that's not you." He sighed, trying to figure out his thoughts. "But I could use someone to talk to who's not just trying to kiss my arse all the time. Not to mention someone who looks that good on camera."

It was hard to say no with Thranduil looking at him so imploringly. "I'll think about it," he conceded, twisting a lock of Thranduil's hair around his fingers and using it to pull him into a rough kiss. "But _this_ isn't going to become a regular thing."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Bard and Thranduil's relationship following their first meeting though the remainder of their final year at uni

It was less than a week before Thranduil called on Bard again. He claimed that a few of the photos hadn't come out quite how he'd hoped they would have, so he needed to retake a few of them. Bard was dubious about this, but he didn't like to let anyone down, not even someone like Thranduil who infuriated him in so many ways. Inevitably, after a little prying and wheedling on Thranduil's part, Bard ended up back at the stately dorm, and once again ushered to Thranduil's room.

Thranduil's room, which last time had been immaculate, was currently strewn with photos. Bard was a little relieved to catch sight of a few that were of other people. At least that meant the other wasn't purely fixated on him. Or so he hoped. Distracted, Thranduil picked up a folder from on top of his chest of drawers. "This is the portfolio I'm working on," he informed, holding it out for Bard to take a look. "The others are all fine, but I was somewhat distracted the day I did your photoshoot. They feel a little too...personal..."

Bard tried to hide his reddening cheeks behind the folder. What was that even supposed to mean? But even he could see the difference. The other photographs all had a professional, somewhat distant feel, whereas the ones of himself looked like they were taken by someone with a very keen interest in the subject matter. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"I see," he responded meekly, hoping his flush had gone down enough not to be too obvious as he handed the folder back to Thranduil. "So what do you need me to do?" There was a reluctance in his tone, he'd seen the photos for himself. The porfolio was entirely semi-nude photographs.

Thranduil merely arched one of his perfect eyebrows. "I'm sure you can work it out," he scoffed, returning the folder to the dresser. "But if you really need me to spell it out for you, the piece is a study of the human body and its variations." He waved a hand vaguely at Bard. "I need you to strip down to your underwear."

Wearily Bard did as Thranduil requested, less bitterly than before, but he still wasn't exactly comfortable stripping to almost nothing in front of someone he hardly knew (in the biblical sense didn't count). Especially since he still had a few red lines down the front of his torso from some of Thranduil's rougher scratches. Marks that Thranduil was eyeing appreciatively, with a sense of pride, visually tracing each one. He did however, acknowledge Bard's discomfort in this instance. "I can probably edit those out...or take you from behind."

No matter how surly he may have been, Bard couldn't help snorting at that one. He followed it with a heavy eyeroll as he finished stripping down, kicking his jeans aside. "That's cute," he grumbled. "But I liked the idea better when you were the one riding me." Did he really just say that? Shit. No doubt his cheeks were now flaring red. "Err...anyway...whatever works better for your project. They're not that obvious are they?"

"You know you're cute when you blush. It's more becoming than your usual attitude," Thranduil retorted, smirking. He circled Bard thoughtfully. "Maybe from an angle. They're not too obvious, anyway, but you can barely see them from the side."

"I'm not the only one with an attitude problem," Bard growled, but there was somewhat less venom in his tone than he would have used the last time he was here. He was gradually starting to realise that Thranduil wasn't as bad as he liked to pretend to be, but that didn't mean Bard liked the idea of being toyed with any better.

Thranduil merely tutted, his hands sliding over Bard to position him into the pose he wanted, making sure it would make the scratches as unnoticeable as possible before stepping back and picking up his camera. He had to concentrate to stop himself from focusing too closely on some of his preferred features of Bard. It was for his project. But after forcing himself to do a couple of professional shots, he took a couple more for personal reasons. It didn't take long however, for Thranduil's attention to wander, aesthetically appreciating Bard was one thing, but he wanted more than that. The last time hadn't truly slaked his thirst, merely sated his curiosity for a while. Setting the camera aside, he went to Bard, sliding his hands around the back of the other's neck and curling his fingers into Bard's dingy brown locks.

Bard's initial reaction to Thranduil's kiss was to kiss back, hot and hungry and wet, his arms slipping around Thranduil's waist and pulling them flush together. Once his brain caught up with his actions, he broke away from the kiss, panting, but didn't change his hold on the other man. "I said this wasn't going to be a regular thing," he groaned, still close enough to Thranduil's face that their breath was mixing. "I can't keep doing this to myself."

"Doing what, exactly?" Thranduil queried, toying with the hair at the nape of Bard's neck and enjoying the shudder it sent through him. "Twice isn't exactly a regular occurance, Bard." 

"I can't keep playing along with your games." Despite his complaints, Bard hadn't exactly made much effort to remove himself from the situation. He still wanted Thranduil, but he also didn't want to be messed around with by some pretentious jerk.

"And if I said it wasn't a game? I want you...I've never had much cause for wanting anything...it's always just been given to me...but you're not just some prize to be won, and it wounds me somewhat that you are so convinced otherwise." He dropped his arms and took a step back. "Do you think...you could at least indulge me one more time?"

Bard sighed and ran a hand down his face. He'd meant what he said, and while there was a weight behind Thranduil's words as well, it was hard to say if it was real. Thranduil could be lying even to himself. After all, what would someone who had everything truly want with someone who had so little, aside from that he was different to everyone and everything he'd ever known. It was only infatuation, Bard told himself, it couldn't possibly be more than that. But Bard was nearly as infatuated with this seemingly ethereal man, he just was less inclined to take the risk of getting hurt further down the line once Thranduil realised that it wasn't real.

Maybe he could pretend just a little longer. "This is the last time." He just wished there was more conviction in his voice since he was talking to himself as much as Thranduil.

"Of course," Thranduil agreed, unconvinced, as he shed his clothing. He didn't want it to be the last time. He didn't ever want a last time with Bard.

In the weeks that followed they met up with increasing regularity. Thranduil made a point not to make things not just about photos or bedding Bard. Although he loved both, he was also wary of pushing Bard away. Trying to get Bard to meet with him for anything that wasn't curricular was difficult, however, but Thranduil managed to get him on a couple of "dates" though Bard refused to acknowledge them as such. He was wary of this man, convinced that one day Thranduil would get bored of him and that would be the end of things. So why even start?

Thranduil, on the other hand just found himself more and more drawn to Bard each day, but Bard's dismissal of his feelings cut ever deeper. He could understand why Bard might feel that way, he didn't exactly look like the type he would normally bring home, not that he'd ever brought anyone to meet his parents. But Bard head so much more to offer that so few of the empty-headed, rich kids around him did. Bard was interesting, Bard had a personality and interests in things that were nothing to do with money or status and that was what Thranduil loved.

They were talking hobbies one evening. Sweaty and disheveled under the fine blankets on Thranduil's bed. Not the first time they'd had sex since Bard's so-called "last time", though he still would not commit. Bard enjoyed the sex, he just had to be careful not to let his heart get caught up in it. Friends with benefits. Though were either of them really benefitting here? 

Thranduil was intrigued when he found out that Bard was a keen archer, he himself was good at fencing, more than good really, and he'd even had some practice wielding real swords. Archery was a much finer art, though, it required more strength and precision, whereas Thranduil treated swordplay almost like dancing.

"I would love to watch you practice some time," Thranduil said earnestly, skimming his nails along one of Bard's arms. That explained a lot about his strong build. "Maybe even take a few photographs, if that is alright."

Bard hummed thoughtfully, his fingertips skimming a bruise flowering at the base of Thranduil's neck where he'd maybe bitten a little too hard in the heat of the moment. Though he couldn't help thinking that it made quite a beautiful contrast against his porcelain skin. "I can't see the harm," he conceded. "I've got a booking on the range the day after tomorrow, anyway."

Bard was already at the range and warming up when Thranduil arrived with his camera. He was so into what he was doing that he hadn't even noticed Thranduil's arrival, as it was he was only vaguely aware of the few others practicing, just enough not to accidentally hit anyone. He had a longbow that looked absolutely ancient, and though it was well-worn, it was also well looked after. Even still it looked like it may fall apart at any moment. Thranduil was in awe at the raw power it took to draw such a bow, and the level of accuracy with which he wielded it. 

Thranduil decided not to interrupt, merely taking photos at his leisure and enjoying watching Bard at work. It was only once he'd run out of arrows that Bard returned to the world around him. By then the range had emptied out save for the two of them, and as he went to retrieve his arrows (not a single one had missed the target) he was very aware of Thranduil watching him.

As soon as Bard had returned to the nearer end of the range, Thranduil was taking the bow and quiver from Bard and setting them gently aside so he could drag him into a corner despite a few protests. Protests that increased when Thranduil backed Bard into a wall and dropped to his knees, his hands skimming Bard's thighs.

"What are you..? Anyone could walk in..."

Thranduil snorted dismissively, his long fingers making short work of Bard's fly. Despite the protests, it appeared that part of Bard wasn't adverse to the idea. "I doubt anyone else will be coming in this late...and anyway, the possibility just makes it more exciting. Before Bard could protest any further, Thranduil had freed his cock and drew his tongue from its base to its tip, the next words dying on Bard's tongue, replaced by a soft hiss and then a low moan as the heat of Thranduil's mouth enveloped the head of his cock.

All thoughts of arguing were gone now as Bard's hands tangled in Thranduil's hair and he urged him on, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loud as Thranduil took more of him into his mouth, nearly to the hilt, before drawing back again, focusing his attention on the head, one hand working teasingly working the rest of Bard's length while the other hand pressed firmly against Bard's lower stomach to keep him from moving too much. 

After a moment or so of this, Thranduil withdrew his hand from Bard's cock, deepthroating him again, a moan of his own reverberating around Bard's length as the archer tugged at his hair, spurring Thranduil further. He bobbed his head, moaning deliberately against him, enjoying the way the vibrations pushed Bard closer and closer to the edge, carrying on in this way until Bard gave a ragged cry and Thranduil's mouth was filled Bard's hot cum. He swallowed it down and proceeded to lick clean any remnants on Bard before tucking him back into his trousers and getting to his feet with a pleased smirk. 

Before Thranduil could move away, Bard caught the front of Thranduil's shirt and tugged him in for a kiss, savouring the taste of himself in Thranduil's mouth. For a moment he'd forgotten his vow not to let himself fall for Thranduil. For a moment he could almost see them having a future together. It was hard not to when Thranduil kept blowing him away like that (pun unintended). But then reality crept back into his thoughts and he was brushing past Thranduil to retrieve his bow and quiver, going straight out of the door without even glancing behind him.

In the months leading up to them finishing uni, a rift grew between them. Thranduil could not fathom where he had gone wrong, and no matter what he did to try and win Bard's favor back, Bard would have none of it. He did everything he could to distance himself from Thranduil and buried himself in his schoolwork. His free time was spent either doing freelance work or working on finding himself a career for when he finished school. Even on his rare moments when he was free he had some excuse as to why he could not see Thranduil. He was so determined not to have his own heart broken that he was oblivious to how much he was hurting Thranduil.

As a result, Thranduil became more secluded than ever, and he threw fewer parties. At least until he grew to accept that he wasn't going to have Bard. It still hurt, but he found he could at least pretend not to feel anything. He'd have to just try and move on, because he couldn't force Bard to be with him. He just could not understand why. It was so clear that they had something special. But so be it.

He refused to part on such bitter terms, however, and decided to give Bard a parting gift. On one of their last days of uni, he showed up outside Bard's dorm with a long, flat box, nearly as tall as he was.

"I know you want nothing to do with me," he sounded colder than he'd meant, but seeing Bard now was like a dagger into his heart. "I just wanted to give you something to remember me by. Regardless of what you think my intentions were, I assure you I cared about you." Past tense even though Thranduil was postive he would never have a day where he did not care about Bard.

Inside the box was a beautifully carved, yew longbow. Bard traced the intricate designs that were carved into with awe. Regardless of his feelings, it was an absolutely beautiful gift. He was torn because he felt guilty accepting such an extravagant gift from someone he'd probably never see again, but at the same time refusing it would be colder than he was capable of being. His expression as he lifted his gaze from the bow to Thranduil was pained, almost as much as the one Thranduil was wearing.

Awkwardly, Bard threw his arms around Thranduil, hugging him tightly and murmuring a "thank you" and an "I'm so sorry" before returning to his dorm and closing the door.

Thranduil had been unable to bring himself to hug Bard back.

He was too painfully aware that the inscription just above the handle had gone unnoticed.


End file.
